Syringes In The Gutter
ONE
Hey there I'm Ashley. Just Ashley. Or Ash.
See, I don't know my last name. I don't know my parents. I grew up in an orphanage and ran away when I was eleven. I'm seventeen now, so's Meg (who's just two months older than me). Riley, my older brother, is nineteen.
I ran away because of the kids there who were bothering me. They always were a bit older and downright buggers so of course they had to go around getting in trouble for chucking lager down people's chimneys. I didn't know, I never knew what I would become. It makes them look like apples next to pineapples. Haha, don't ask about the fruit comparison please.
So when I was around eleven, more or less, I ran away. I just took my few things in a bag and ran all the way to the coach and rode the night away to Orange County. Of course, I didn't intend on staying in a house, and I sort of knew that squatting wasn't a thing you'd find much in America, so I just sort of hung around the neighbourhood.
Neighbours called the coppers in for complaints a few times. I heard them talking in their front doorways and I was always behind bushes. I had a sense of survival, see. I knew what I was doing about the time I was twelve and found a place somewhere in Costa Mesa.
Ha, this is the place where I should be utterly bitter with myself. It wasn't a place to live, just a place to exist. I wasn't myself after this, and I've got just about everything to regret.
Ha. I met Zac. He's made what I am. I need him to survive.
See, I don't know my last name. I don't know my parents. I grew up in an orphanage and ran away when I was eleven. I'm seventeen now, so's Meg (who's just two months older than me). Riley, my older brother, is nineteen.
I ran away because of the kids there who were bothering me. They always were a bit older and downright buggers so of course they had to go around getting in trouble for chucking lager down people's chimneys. I didn't know, I never knew what I would become. It makes them look like apples next to pineapples. Haha, don't ask about the fruit comparison please.
So when I was around eleven, more or less, I ran away. I just took my few things in a bag and ran all the way to the coach and rode the night away to Orange County. Of course, I didn't intend on staying in a house, and I sort of knew that squatting wasn't a thing you'd find much in America, so I just sort of hung around the neighbourhood.
Neighbours called the coppers in for complaints a few times. I heard them talking in their front doorways and I was always behind bushes. I had a sense of survival, see. I knew what I was doing about the time I was twelve and found a place somewhere in Costa Mesa.
Ha, this is the place where I should be utterly bitter with myself. It wasn't a place to live, just a place to exist. I wasn't myself after this, and I've got just about everything to regret.
Ha. I met Zac. He's made what I am. I need him to survive.
♠ ♠ ♠
Should I continue?Comments please. <3